Highlights
What we learned as kids, I have tried to shed like the skin of a snake, though I know it well still. Know it is embedded in my heart, in the hearts of many of us from that town. In penance, I try to present something else. Something lucid and buoyant. Overcompensating for an unintentionally felonious past. I hold on to the hope that contrition is fixed within the steps of the very walk itself. Each step, an apology.
If you do get bit, the “Book of John” informs me, don’t worry. Just lie down for a few days. (A few days?!) Right there, right in the middle of the path. Meditate, stay calm, don’t move. The more you move, the faster the poison circulates. Call for help or, if you don’t have cell service, just wait for someone to come along.
To give you a glimpse into the absurdity of my life, of how far I’ve traveled from our town, I once took Jeff Bezos (he had been knocked down a rung to the world’s second-richest human at the time) on a little walk around these parts (don’t ask; long story). As we approached the grand torii, I relayed the facts, told him it was the biggest in the world, and he turned to me with the widest eyes I’ve ever seen and said in his singular Jeff Voice: LET’S BUILD A BIGGER ONE.
